Cat Got Your Tongue
by Honey BeeMee
Summary: Harry has a visitor who proves to be more than he originally thinks.
1. Chapter 1

Forest Gump once said "Life is like a box of chocolates". Deep, very deep. Well, if that were true, then my chocolates each had a bite eaten out of them by some snot nose grubby little kid, and then put back in the box.

I know the point of the quote was that life is unpredictable, that you bite into a piece of chocolate and don't know what you'll get, but who cares. It's chocolate! My life wasn't feeing very chocolaty as I stepped out of my blue hodge-podge Volkswagen beetle into the thick September evening. I was covered in sticky whatever and stunk to high heaven; as did now my car. That was going to take forever to air out. Damn. This is the total opposite of chocolate.

If I haven't previously introduced myself, my name is Harry Dresden, and I am Chicago's one and only phonebook wizard. I even get my own section in the yellow pages; under wizards. Don't laugh. I'm the real deal. I'm typically hired by clients who have lost items or jinxed objects and whatever. I do _not_ do love potions, psychic readings or create custom curses; so don't bother asking. Tonight's fiasco was me trying to wrangle a cursed squash plant, and in the process coming out with enough goo and gunk on me to be mistaken for a preschooler on art day.

I shuffled the short walk from parking lot to my apartment, which was the basement of a boarding house. It was cool in the summer, protected from the winter, dark, small and mine. Mister, my twenty eight pound grey catzilla, jumped from nowhere and met me like a battering ram does a medieval castle. If I wasn't accustomed to this greeting it would've sent me sailing into the bushes, but I've learned to automatically brace myself for it by now. I bent down to give him a rub, and then took another move toward the steps down to my door. There, sitting on the flowerbed wall along the steps was a strange cat. Not that the cat itself was strange, just that I don't see to many cats around other than Mister, though I'm sure he's not the only one. He must have friends somewhere; that is assuming cats have friends. It's not something that's ever really come up in our conversations.

"So Mister, aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend?" I looked down to find Mister staring as intently at the other cat as it was him. Mister's tail began to twitch back and forth but the other cat stayed perfectly still. I didn't know if this was a good sign or a bad sign, as I was never good as reading what Mister actually wanted. I understood 'I want in' 'I want out' and 'Feed me' and that was about it. I'd never seen him react to another cat, so I wasn't sure if this quiet stillness was normal or not. "You know guys, I'm tired, sticky and stinky, so I'm going in with or without you." I whispered a few chants to disarm the protective wards set around the house and opened the door to my cool apartment. "Are you coming?" Mister gave a low cat growl that sounded more like the throaty sound an annoyed teenage girls makes when she rolls her eyes at something her parents have said or done. The stranger cat then sat stared at me, and I hated that, because I was always a sucker for someone in need. I tried not looking it in the eyes, and not just because I would be filled with sympathy for the poor deserted animal, but more out of habit to not look directly into anyone's eyes. Looking into someone's eyes is like looking into their soul, called a soulgaze actually. During soulgaze you see that person's character how they really truly are, and they see yours. But you never know what you or they will see, and you can never forget.

"I guess it won't hurt to give you something to eat, and then send you back on your way. Come on." The cat just sat on the step. "Come on there kitty, kitty, kitty." I hate cutesy; but it worked. The cat jumped down and ran inside straight to Mister, who promptly looked at me as if to ask "Why?"

"Hey, we can't just leave it out there hungry. I'll give it something to eat then out, deal?" Look at me; bargaining with a cat. Smooth. "Now," I told the strange cat. "I'm gonna give you something to eat, but you can't stay here. I already have a cat; and he's really only here part time." It gave me one of those cute cat looks with the tilted head and started purring. I had to admit, it was a cute cat.

After putting down some various lunch meats I had, I kicked aside one of my numerous floor rugs and opened the trapdoor that lead to my sub-basement. Even though I myself live in a basement, the fact that I have a basement myself makes it feel all the more homey. I use this space as my labora-tory, and yes, I do like to pronounce it like some eastern European Dr Frankenstein. There is barely room to walk down there because the walls are covered in cheap shelving stacked with bins, bottles and bags filled with god knows what and a long work table runs through the center of the room. The part of the room that doesn't quite fit with the rest of the décor is a section of shelving covered in old snubbed candles, a human skull, romance novels and risqué magazines that normally come mailed unmarked in brown envelopes. The most important piece on that shelf would be the bleached human skull, and it was currently drooling over the newest Victoria Secret catalogue. Well, he would be if skulls had drool.

"Bob," I said to the skull stepping farther into the earth. "That neutralizing potion didn't work."

"Wha- Harry?" His orange glowing eyes never left the magazine. "What potion?"

"What potion? The neutralizing potion you helped me make to freeze that out of control squash plant. All it did was piss it off."

"Did you make it right?"

"I made it exactly how you told me to make it." I was tired of talking to a skull only half paying attention to me, so I stalked over and closed the catalogue.

"Hey! I was just getting into that. The next is teddies and garters! It's an early Sweetest Day edition. What do you have all over you?"

"It's some kind of goo or whatever that the plant's flowers squirted at me. It was just lashing out at everything coming near it when I arrived, which I thought the potion would stop it from doing. Instead, your little juice drink made it even more violent and start spraying nectar goo. And chopping off the vines would disarm it, but they released the worst smell imaginable."

"Woo. I'm sure glad I can't smell anything then. You must not have dissolved the powder enough before heating it with the other liquids. I told you that would have to be absolutely dissolved or the solid particles would react."

"I know, I know." While I was talking to Bob, I didn't realize that the strange cat had followed me down to the lab and was wandering about. It took an interest in Bob, probably the lights and movement, and jumped up onto the shelf holding the talking skull.

"Who's the new addition? We're not a zoo Harry."

"I'm not keeping it, but it was sitting at the door when I came home. I couldn't help it."

"You and your incessant need to help. That probably means its female."

"Yeah, you're probably right."  
"Well in that case, at least Mister might be having some fun, even if you're not."

"How does my sex life keep coming up in so many of your discussions?"

"Because it doesn't exist, and I figure if I keep reminding you of that you might actually do something about it."

"Thanks to know you're so concerned, but I'm doing just fine." Who was I kidding? Sex right now seemed like a concept so unreachable it might as well have been the moon. I haven't been close to anyone since Susan left, the woman who, for all intents and purposes, I probably did really love. At least at one time. But our relationship kind of hit a brick wall when being together meant she had to fight her vampiric hunger to drink my blood. You know. The normal stuff.

"Well, all that said, I am about to be less than fine if this cat rubs any closer. I may not have any eyes but I don't appreciate cat hair clogging the sockets. And another thing— _AAACCHOOO!!_"

I stared at the sniffing skull in disbelief. "How can you sneeze?" And can you sneeze with your eyes open if you don't have any eyes?

"When I was alive I was allergic to cats. This is just my spirit remembering that fact."

"Oh. Well what was it you were going to say before you went kablooey?"

"I don't remember."

"Whatever." I picked up the cat and held it in the crook of my sticky arm and went back upstairs to the apartment. I put the cat down and it went strait to the couch, climbing onto the back and curling up, but still watching me. "Okay, you can stay tonight… I guess. But in the morning it's adios muchacho. Alright?" I took the absolute no change in facial expression to mean that was hunky dory. I was still a sticky mess and stunk to high heaven thanks to the cursed squash plant. The whole thing was stupid. My client was an avid gardener and competed annually in a veggie contest. His biggest rival put a hex on his squash plant, but it got out of control, lashing out its vines on anything that moved. Not particularly dangerous, but sure as hell was annoying. It didn't start spraying sticky fluid until I used Bob's miracle potion, and if we tried cutting the vines it released the most putrid smell imaginable. I was able to fix things by the end of the day, but I sacrificed my olfactory organs to do it.

I was in desperate need of a shower, but as it was going to be one without a water heater, I was less than excited to begin it. Afterwards my bed felt extremely comfortable on my achy tired limbs. I was just beginning to drift off to sleep when I felt not one, but two forms jump up on the bed. Mister, my normal sleepmate went straight to his normal spot. The other though wandered around to lay down leaning against my side and be level with my hand, compelling me to scratch it to sleep. Yep. It's female.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The only main character in this story that I created myself is Kris, all the others are the work of Jim Butcher

_Disclaimer: The only main character in this story that I created myself is Kris, all the others are the work of Jim Butcher. I also apologize for slight inconsistencies that arise because I mixed up facts given in the book series vs the TV show series, so bear with me with it if I get them mixed._

I awoke the next morning alone in bed, in a strangely twisted position and a sore back. Seems like there was a power struggle for sleep space during the night, due to our new visitor. Oh goody. A sore back is nothing compared to pains I have had to work through in the past, but I haven't had to work through pain in a while. First thing I knew I had to do today was get to my office and turn in my rent money for it before I was evicted. I only hoped that he would wait to turn in my check until I got the money from the plant job into my account. I really hate bouncing checks.

Shuffling sorely out of bed, my spidey senses picked up that something was amiss when I walked out my bedroom door. Have you ever got that feeling when you walk into a room that you're completely comfortable in like you have done thousands of times, but just this one time something felt different? That's kind-of the vibe I was getting. Problem was, from what I could see, nothing looked out of place or out of the ordinary. I gathered some focused energy in case any baddies did come storming out of nowhere, though without my staff or blasting rod I'd probably do more damage to the apartment. I couldn't figure out how anything could've gotten through my wards without me noticing in the first place. They would've been practically fried extra crispy at my doorway if they tried to force themselves in, and even if they did make it, my threshold would disable all or most of their magical abilities. I could see my wards were still up and running, so at least no one took a metaphysical hacksaw to them.

I really wish Mouse was here with me now. He's my Yeti of a dog. Mouse would've warned me of something, if there was something, regardless of whether my wards went off or not. Unfortunately, he was sick beyond my help. I don't know what he got hold of, but he scarffed something down that didn't bode well with his system. Poor pooch had diarrhea for two days all over the boarding house's tiny yard, which was no pretty sight, as Mouse is no Chihuahua. He also vomited on nearly every rug in my living room. I really didn't want to leave him at the vet's, but I just couldn't do any more for him. Hopefully he is feeling better today, but it doesn't help me right now.

I carefully surveyed my apartment, looking for anything that looked tampered with. It's so much easier when drawers are pulled out and emptied, stuff ripped off of shelves, handy little stickers that said "Thorlag Was Here". I neglected to find any of these things. Instead I just found a healthy portion or paranoia with a side order of second guessing.

Finally, after checking every possible scenario I could think of, I gave up. I was probably just being paranoid, and it was early, and I haven't had coke or coffee yet. I don't function well without caffeine. I reached in my icebox for the last coke but all my hand grabbed was cold air. Strange. I don't remember drinking my last coke. This was not a good start to my day. I didn't have any coffee at the apartment, but I did have some instant at the office. That was something at least. Both cats were waiting in my kitchen for breakfast service. They saw me wander the whole apartment, warily searching every corner and crevice like the suspicious idiot I am. Fantastic. They were going to have to wait for breakfast. If I can't drink mine right away why should I give them theirs? In my head I ran through things I had to do today. I needed to go to my office and collect the junk mail and check my messages. The bank and vets office were also on my agenda, but the office was the first stopping point on the route.

Since my duster was still covered in goo I grabbed a windbreaker instead. I was hesitant to wear the flimsy thing, but it wasn't for fear of making a fashion faux paus. The duster had loads of protective spells that watched my back when nothing (or no one) else would, plus...it's a leather duster. It's freaking cool and makes me look ten times the badass I really am. I try to always have a cover for my blasting rod because it looks a bit suspicious seen out in the open, and lately I don't go anywhere without it. Call me paranoid, but I believe in the Boy Scout motto, always prepared. That, and the old saying that everything that can go wrong will. I've personally experienced the truth in that phrase. I did a final check of all my defense paraphernalia; ring, bracelet, amulet. Check, check, check. Mister and the strange cat ran out my door as soon as I opened it, heading quickly for places unknown. This didn't bother me, Mister had his own agenda. I didn't ask him where he went, and he didn't ask me. Looking at the beetle I suddenly remembered the goo that got all over the seats the night before. I could just not wear my duster, but I couldn't avoid my car. Number two on the day's checklist, clean out car.

My office is in on the fifth floor of an office building that looked nicer before I was there, I'm sure. Aw, hell, it looked nicer when I started leasing there. At least at that time the elevator worked. Even though it's kinda my fault that it's broke, it's not entirely though. I wasn't the one who created the growing killer scorpion, or even released it. I just had to destroy it, inadvertently destroying the only elevator and closing it down until further notice.

First thing first; coffee. I grabbed a cup, wiped out most of the old dried coffee with the edge of my shirt and filled it with water, then turned my ancient hot-plate on to heat it up. Instant coffee may not be Starbucks, but beggars can't exactly choose the first NFL Draft. I didn't have much mail except a few ads for credit cards, a free cell phone and finally a rent due notice. I'll never understand why I get the mail I get. No company would possibly grant me a credit card with my credit, and a cell phone in my hands is practically dead before it finishes powering up. I read the rent due notice, thinking my last client couldn't have come at a better time. I didn't see any other messages or notes for my attention. There isn't a lot to do in my office if I'm not expecting to meet someone.

I grabbed my steaming cup of water, having now dumped in a packet of magic bean powder. The first sip was so heavenly I completely ignored the fact that it was burning off every cell in my mouth. I would regret it later when I felt only the charred rough flesh, but for now it gave me peace.

I turned to walk out and kicked something I hadn't noticed when I walked in. It was a manila folder, and looked to have been slipped in under the door. There was nothing written on the outside, and I couldn't tell if there was anything at all inside it. If some magical goony left it, then I was relatively certain there wasn't a mechanical bomb inside at least. Anything small enough to leave the envelope looking empty would be pretty high-tech, and magical energies wreak havoc on high-tech devices. That didn't rule out the possibility of a magical "bomb" so to speak, or the human enemies I've made that wouldn't have any trouble with technology. Unfortunately, if I had to count all my enemies on my fingers, I would need both hands, both feet, and probably still another set of each. I couldn't think of any I had pissed off that recently in particular, though several wish me dead just as a general rule.

Aw hell Harry, standing here staring at the thing won't do any good. I've done my full share of pointless charades this morning, and I didn't feel like continuing them in the public of my office building's hallway. I carefully picked up the envelope, and opened it, definitely keeping it away from my face. Hey, you can never be too careful. I like my face arranged the way it is, thank you very much. I don't need it revamped by something flying out of the package as soon as I open it. Contained inside was one simple piece of paper with only a list of numbers, possibly coordinates, or maybe Pepsi reward codes collected from bottle caps. I wasn't betting on my luck handing me 10,000 points for free Pepsi gear, though that would be really freakin' cool.

There wasn't anything else on the paper or the envelope, and no other clue as to who sent it. I am not in the mood for a mystery today, and I'm not good at cryptic messages anyway. In fact, I hate them. In my opinion, everything left at my door should be noted, explained, signed, dated, and have contact information in case I have other questions. A blank envelope containing a list of random numbers should be returned to sender.

Although, a cryptic note just meant that it was something the sender didn't want as public information. Meaning, it was a secret, and I do so love secrets… as long as they don't get me shot at. So far this one hadn't got me shot at; point for the strange unmarked envelope.

I shoved the envelope in my belt and zipped up my jacket. I'd look into it later at a more comfortable venue. I hated to just toss it away because it was obviously important enough for someone to take the time to slip it under my door. It's not like people get me mixed up with the lawyer next door too often.

I had my hands full coming out of the building between my coffee, mail and fumbling my car keys, so unfortunately I was ill equipped when a couple thugs jumped me from the street. They popped out quicker than I could react, one jumping out from behind a parked van and the other slamming my head from behind, sending me stumbling forward. My coffee and mail went sailing across the sidewalk, and my keys sliding onto the street to rest under the van. Crap.

"What the hell?" When these kinds of things happen, I can't help but wonder which all-powerful being I pissed off the night before to send goons to beat me up for no reason I know of, before I could even finish my morning coffee. I went down on my knee, lifting my left arm with my shield bracelet. Unfortunately, I was too dazed to focus any energy, so instead of blocking the second thug's foot, it went sailing into that soft fragile part of my diaphragm, with his knee being personally introduced to my nose as my head whipped downward.

Now, I can take a beating just as well as the next guy, but that's when I'm ready for it. These guys caught me on a couple sucker punches. I just wasn't ready for them, I swear it. One of them grabbed my arms and pulled them behind my back while the other began rooting through my pockets searching for something. I still was trying to catch my breath, and he holding my arms back behind me wasn't helping matters. I was worried about my nose because I felt like it had started bleeding, and my eyes were already so watered I couldn't see anything clearly.

"Hells bells," I managed to sputter through gasps. I didn't owe money to any angry bookies, and my landlord wouldn't send goons to collect my slightly late rent payment. Well, pretty sure anyway. "Who are you?"

"Just shut up, who _we_ are ain't important."

"Excuse me, but when I'm being attacked by someone I'd really appreciate knowing who and why. Like who have I pissed off this time?"

"You sure ask a lot of nosey questions."

"Yeah, I'm a nosey kind-of guy."

Goon two holding me still just grunted to everything. Apparently he was the talkative one. They were obviously searching for something they thought I had, but I couldn't think of what they would want. It would've been so much easier if they just asked, but no, they had to go straight to violence. I mean, maybe I would've cooperated. Maybe.

Suddenly out of my watery vision I saw a woman running toward us behind the man searching my pockets. She was small and slender in size, and although she wore what looked like sturdy boots, I heard no evidence of her steps hitting sidewalk. I don't know how he missed her, but the goon restraining me must have been too preoccupied with their search, but neither one of them saw her coming until it was too late.

She slammed her elbow into goon one and threw goon two a straight punch as he let go of me with one arm. I got some of my bearings then, and it was enough of a release for me to swing my leg around behind me and take him down. I didn't know who this woman was, but as long as we were fighting the same people, she was all right with me. I was quick to stand and move away from the recovering bad guy we had sent to the ground. The first goon that the woman hit had reached for his gun, and I saw it, but I was alert now. I took the adrenaline built up from the moment and a pale blue shield of protection was immediately there between the shooter and myself and the woman, just in time for him to fire off four wasted shots. The bullets hit my shield and went up, since I tilted it slightly to deflect them away.

I looked over at my savior, she had her hands ready in a stance that hinted a martial arts style, and I could feel a static energy rushing toward her like she was gathering it as I had. I looked at her puzzled, "Who _are_ you?"

She stayed focused on the recovering goon rising off the sidewalk, but hinted at a smile, "Maybe we should save introductions for later."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." The shield spell was taking more energy from me than usual, and since the woman was also taking energy from around us there was that much less for me to draw from. Granted I wasn't at my best yet today since my breakfast was now spilled across the pavement. The second I lowered it, she had something ready though, throwing out a gust of wind so forceful that both thugs were sent crashing against the building.

We took this wonderfully convenient chance to run, though after passing that parked van I remembered the keys slid under it. It's a good thing that I'm tall and skinny with long arms, because it made the keys relatively easy to reach.

I grabbed the woman by the arm and pointed to the blue beetle a few spaces down and across the street. As she and I ran, the thugs popped off shots, but none of them hit close. We tore out of there as fast as my little bug could go, which unfortunately isn't as fast as I often would like.

I did my routine for loosing a tail, but never saw one following me. I continued it just for precaution anyway, also to give my knuckles the chance to relax themselves and get some color back. Gripping the wheel had turned them white. I was pretty shook up after the events of the morning; my strange woman didn't look fazed at all.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you have it

"Do you have it?" I didn't even know her name and she was already asking me questions.

I had complete and honest surprise in my voice when I answered, "What lady? Do I have what? Hells bells, I don't know what the hell they were looking for!"

"You really don't know?"

I turned to look at her. She looked puzzled as if trying to decide whether or not to believe me. "Hey, I don't need you to answer my questions with more questions. I haven't been bothering anyone today. All I did was get up this morning, come to the office, pick up my mail—"

"Your mail, what was there?" She was leaning very intently over to my space of the beetle, and even though I was watching the road, I could feel her concentration on me. It was making me very uncomfortable, because this was way too small a space to defend myself if she tried anything. I mean come on; I don't know anything about her. I probably should've thought twice about letting a strange woman jump in my car, but she did save my butt, and I can't just leave her out on the street. That would be rude.

"Uh, I don't know. Some credit card offers, cell phone ads, some other junk mail, and a weird envelope."

"The envelope, where is it?" She all but lunged at me, reaching her hands into my jacket. I swerved the beetle by surprise and practically clipped a parked car. It's incredibly hard to concentrate on driving when someone has their hands all over you, digging through your coat pockets. It tickles, it's distracting, and under different circumstances I might have really enjoyed it. Now I was just wondering why everyone was so interested in that damn envelope.

I pulled the car into the first empty space I found, before I pulled into somewhere a bit less empty by accident. The girl had her hands on the envelope and was pulling it out when I snatched it from her grip. She had one knee braced on the seat and her other leg braced around the gearshift, and her face was very close to mine. She had shining golden eyes, but I was quick to look away because I didn't want to start any soul gaze. Instead my eyes moved to see the rest of her, and I felt her do the same.

Until now I hadn't really looked at the woman who came to my rescue, and then allowed to jump in my car. Had she been another attacker, I couldn't guarantee I could give any definite description passed the fact that they were definitely female and not very big. Her hair was shoulder length and layered to spike out some, and it was lustrous silver; definitely not grey. She was wearing a tan denim jacket that came to her waist with a graphic t-shirt and jeans flaring out over hefty hiking boots that made her small size seem smaller. The shirt said 'Duck Tape' and had a picture of the Aflac duck all tied up in duct tape. Cute. I held the envelope as far away from her as I could get in the enclosed space, taunting her. After a moment she settled back to her own side of the car.

"First question," I asked. "Who are you?"

My mystery woman visibly sighed, obviously annoyed at my uncooperativeness. Good, always do love to be a pain in the ass. "My name is Maya," she said finally. "And I need the information in that envelope you received."

"Seems like I'm holding something that everyone wants a piece of. What's the information? Why is it so important?"

"If you don't already know what the information is, then there's no reason for me to tell you; the fewer who know about it the better."

Now, this kind of thing just sets me off. I was starting to feel the bruises I recently acquired, along with a busted nose, and this information better have been worth the trouble. I know there have been times I've kept people ignorant from information that could be dangerous for them to know, but call me a hypocrite, because right now I didn't care. The attack raised my curiosity, so I wasn't going to let things go without answers.

"Look, Maya is it? I just got jumped outside my office by a couple rent-a-thugs who were sent to collect this envelope, just as you're trying to do now. I'd really like to know what all the fuss is about."

Maya squinted her eyes and folded her arms. I don't think she meant it to look as cute as it did. "Did you look in the envelope?"  
"Yeah, it's just a bunch of numbers."  
"No, it's not just a bunch of numbers. Those are a bunch of very important numbers. They're the coordinates for safe spots that the council can enter into the Nevernever and cross to the other side. If those numbers got out, they would be extremely jeopardized, and none of those locations would be safe. I don't know how the hell you got them, or what you were going to do with them, but I was sent to retrieve them before they were exposed."

I looked at her and blinked at disbelief. The council couldn't possibly be stupid enough to put all those locations on paper, the same paper no less. And why I would get it was beyond me. I didn't have any reason to know where the council was entering and exiting the Nevernever. I myself wasn't fighting with them directly in the war, though not because I didn't believe in destroying all the hostile vampires I came across. I was stationed in Chicago to oversee the wardens along the eastern half of the United States. I tried to stay out of the council politics as much as possible. The Merlin of the council and I disagreed on almost everything from battle strategy, to wizard law judgment, to whether I should be allowed to continue breathing. Heck, he was probably even a Pepsi man. And though I felt that the Merlin made dumb decisions sometimes, I didn't think he would be stupid enough to allow this information to be leaked. But I guess that's the thing about leaking information; you usually don't know it's been leaked.

Someone did. Someone sent retrieval experts to rough me up and take it. Someone else sent Maya for the same reason; though she has yet to rough me up. That didn't mean I could trust her any more than those other two guys. She knew magic, this much I knew because I saw her use it to help me escape. She was quick to draw her energy that time too, almost as quick as I would've been if I hadn't just been slammed into the sidewalk. Her outward appearance wasn't threatening at all. In fact, if I had just seen her out on the street I'd never have thought her a threat. But regardless of how harmless she looked and the help she's given me so far, past experiences told me I still couldn't trust her.

She waited quietly with her arms crossed, leaning against the passenger door. I still didn't know what to make of her. I finally said, "If this information is what you say it is, do you really believe I would just hand it over to you?"

She shrugged slightly. "I was hoping to get it before you did. That didn't exactly work out."

No kidding. "Well Maya, we have two options here. Option A, you get out of my car and go back to wherever you came from, without this envelope. Or B, you tell me who you are and who sent you. _Then_ you get out of my car and go back where you came from without the envelope."

"How about option C, you give me that envelope and I don't clobber you. Then I go back where I came from, with the envelope."

"What's option D?"

"Same as option C, only I clobber you."

"Is there an option E?"

"There is no option E."

"Well that's not fair. I don't like options C or D."

"And I don't like options A or B."

"This does present a problem."

"Only slightly."

I really didn't want her to clobber me because it's never good for my image to be beaten by a girl--let alone one who is eye to eye with my elbow. And I don't know how, but somehow, someway, the fact that I got my ass handed to me by a girl would get back to Bob, and I would never hear the end of it. Stupid skull. Plus, I have this old-school chivalry thing about not hitting girls unless they were a serious threat to me… or they're not really a girl, but some wizard-eating demon that's been starving for the last few millennia. Hey, it could happen. I didn't think Maya was a wizard-eating demon, which is a good thing, and she didn't look like that much a threat since she let those two thugs go with only minor boo-boos. Then again, I have been surprised before.

We were parked on a random street, with a building beside us and a park on the other side. There wasn't a lot of traffic so I was starting to feel a little exposed. I didn't want to take her to my apartment because what if she was a threat to me? That's like the three pigs inviting the wolf in for tea without making him go through all the huff and puff of aggravating his asthma. Besides, where's the one other place I feel safe outside of my own wards?

I looked out the windows keeping alert for attackers that weren't there. "We've gotta get somewhere less open, since you're apparently not leaving my car," I said. "I know a place, and its neutral ground, so we're safe… even from each other."

"I didn't come here to fight you, but if I feel that information is threatened or compromised at any way, I will not hesitate to use force." She didn't miss a beat when saying she would use force or violence on me if she had to. Nervous? Me?

"Let's just get somewhere to talk for now."

McAnally's is a great little pub in Chicago, known mostly by the magical crowds. It's run and owned by a guy named Mac, and if you get more than three words from him at once, you should feel special. If you get something more than one syllable long, you're blessed. You reach McAnally's by going down a half flight of stairs, so it feels like a genuine European pub. Inside is shiny polished hardwood everywhere. Thirteen columns are randomly spaced out, and carved with vines and symbols. Thirteen tables are randomly spread around the room and there are thirteen chairs at the tall carved wooden bar. There is always thirteen of those things, and always randomly spaced through the room, except the bar chairs. Reason being is they help to disperse the negative wizardly energy that manages to overflow from grumbling wizards by accident. A few years ago this place was officially made neutral ground for all magical parties; therefore you're safe for the most part from any disagreements and skirmishes while under its locational protection. That wouldn't prevent you from being jumped in the parking lot though, so it isn't very wise to piss someone off in here and expect it to be all fine and dandy, since no one can fight inside the pub. You have to leave sometime; can't stay with Mac forever. Though I don't know why anyone would want to, besides for the beer. I mean come on. Mac's a great guy, just not very personable.

Maya sat across from me at the table. I stared at her, she stared at me, but I never actually looked in her eyes. I tend to focus the on other person's face somewhere else. She has a very cute nose. Maya's stare was almost piercing, and if I hadn't known any better I'd have thought she _was_ looking in my eyes. After the incident in the blue beetle, I tucked the envelope more securely in my jacket, where I could still feel it pressing into my gut. It felt awkward, but at least I knew it was still there. Neutrality wasn't the only reason I chose Mac's place for us to go. Mac brews the best beer I've ever tasted, and after my morning I was practically humming _It's Five O'Clock Somewhere_. It was a bit early for Mac to open business, but after I called him and explained how I needed someplace neutral, he came and let me in. He was behind the bar and agreed with a grunt and a shrug to cook me a steak burger, after shoving a rag full of ice in my hand for my nose. Ah Mac, how thoughtful. We were the only three in the place.

I had a good part of my beer down before I spoke up first. "So who are you? All I know is you're name is Maya, or so you tell me."

She sat with her arms crossed and sinfully hadn't even touched her beer. "That is my name, and don't bother asking why I'm here because I've already told you."

"You told me a lot of vague crap that hardly makes any sense, and you never told me who sent you either."

"I was sent by a friend on the council who was worried that the rumors they heard might be true."

"If you've got friends on the council then I don't want anything to do with you; anyone whose friends with them are no friends of mine."

"You have at least one friend on the council. If you didn't then they wouldn't have told me to try and avoid killing you if at all possible."

This certainly caught my attention, because there aren't many people who would care if I was alive or dead, and precious few of them have council ties. "You need to tell me what's going on. I'm involved in this, we both are. Those two guys are still alive and they saw you, so whoever they work for knows about you too by now." I had been searching her face for little clues that would give her away, but her face was as unreadable as a book written by monkeys. Maybe a simple direct question would work better. "Which council member sent you?"

Maya looked down at her beer and tightened her grip trying to decide how best to answer me. She unfolded her arms and put her hands around her beer glass, turning it in her fingers in a brief moment of contemplation before quietly saying, "Ebenezer. He's the one who sent me."

Hearing my old mentor's name brought a rush of emotions. Ebenezer McCoy took me in as a teenager and took the rebel out of me, well, most of it. Definitely the destructive rebel. I was sent to him after being less than forgiven by the council for murdering my evil controlling uncle, who was basically brainwashing me to do his dirty work. In my defense, the murder was kinda self defense, since he was trying to kill me at the time, after realizing that he didn't have as much control over me as he thought. Boo-ya for me. I was allowed to live after my trial, but on indefinite probation; which sucks, trust me. I was sent to Ebenezer's backwater farm, where he taught me to control my power and use them for good, since with great power comes yadda, yadda. I didn't know that all that time Ebenezer was supposed to execute me at my first mistake, an order he thankfully disregarded.

Now I was hearing his name spoken by a woman I didn't even know. If he had sent her, then it would make sense that he would say not to kill me. After all, he couldn't do it when I was a dangerous violent teenager. I know I'm not a cuddly teddy bear now, but I am hardly dangerous or violent--without probable cause. Most of the time it's just accidents anyway. The bad guys cause some of the property damage while we're fighting too you know.

But Ebenezer wouldn't send someone else to do his work; he would come to me directly. Maya doesn't seem like council material, and I don't know many other people who know Ebenezer, so how does she? "How do you know Ebenezer McCoy?" I was surprised that I was getting heated by how Maya might know my former mentor. Who was I to say he isn't allowed friends I don't know?

She was still spinning her glass, but now less of a nervous gesture. She looked up like my tone had insulted her. Maybe I was a little harsh. "I've known him longer than you. I typically do spy work for the council. I met Ebenezer years ago when I started, and I still try to help him whenever I can. He found me and got me the job."

"And you're helping him now?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. He heard rumors that information would be leaked intentionally to you as a trap to set you up as a traitor."

"Make it look like I was trying to sell it?"

"Yeah. Ebenezer was sure that it was bogus, but I couldn't be. I am now though; you really didn't know what you had."

Things were starting to fit together now. There were plenty of people around who would love to paint me as a traitor or double agent, or anything really that could justifiably get my head removed from it's proper place on top my torso. It's a very good thing that Maya doesn't think I'm a traitor, and, call me crazy, but I believed she didn't. Our moment of silence was broken when Mac set my burger on the table right in front of me. He never walks out and delivers the food; he always sets it on the bar for me to pick up, so why change the routine now? I looked up ready to ask him what gives and I saw he had been looking at Maya, sizing her up. He turned toward me, and without a word I knew just what he was doing. Mac knew a bit of Ebenezer McCoy over the years, enough to know who he was. And he had heard enough about the council to know what was going on from our conversation. I'm not saying Mac was purposefully eavesdropping, but it's hard to miss when you're conversation is the only one in an empty room. Besides, Mac hears a lot of things playing quiet barkeep, but he doesn't go blabbing what he hears. At least, I didn't think so. There was caution in Mac's face, but it didn't seem alarming, as if I didn't need to fear anything now, but to stay cautious for later. Mac always did seem to be an adequate judge of character. Maybe I could trust this Maya girl after all.


End file.
